I was early for my weekly visit to the care home and a rocking chair on the porch looked enticing. As I swayed I observed nurses arriving for their shifts.
I wondered how many old-timers had resided in this chair remembering long-ago days when they were young and the world more innocent.
"About time you came to see me son," growled an old man with a stick.
"Sorry, I'm not your son," I replied in a timid tone as I left the seat.
"That's it, run away, you always did."
I wondered how many old-timers had resided in this chair remembering long-ago days when they were young and the world more innocent.
"About time you came to see me son," growled an old man with a stick.
"Sorry, I'm not your son," I replied in a timid tone as I left the seat.
"That's it, run away, you always did."
